


94. All are punished

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [94]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	94. All are punished

_**Ryan Kwanten & Sam Worthington: All are punished.**_  
[follows the day after [Ryan comes without permission](http://www.journalfen.net/users/sam_worthington/11392.html) and [Sam declares his punishment](http://www.journalfen.net/users/kwanten/21578.html)]

Ryan wakes early, as usual. He looks around the unfamiliar Citadel room, then turns and wraps an arm around Sam with a sigh, deciding to skip yoga until he gets back home. His sleepy thoughts move slowly along, until suddenly his eyes flash open. _Fuck_. He's under punishment, and it starts this morning. He pulls away from his sleeping lover, feeling cold to his core, and heads into the bathroom for his shower.

A waft of cool air invades the bed as Ryan slips out and Sam stirs, cracking one eye open to check the clock. Shit. He remembers his words from the night before, his promise of punishment, and his cock just lies there. This might be the first fucking time he's ever had to force himself to jerk off. With a heavy sigh, he sits up and rubs a hand over his face, stretches out his back, and gets out of bed to start the coffee brewing on the table in the corner.

Stepping out of the shower, Ryan hesitates, trying to decide whether to prep or not. He's forbidden from serving Sam sexually today, so why bother? Then again, he's under orders to stay prepped at all times. He decides to err on the side of caution, and goes through the familiar motions.

Pushing open the door, he meets Sam's eyes briefly, then swiftly looks away. He flushes hot, embarrassed, and quickly gets dressed.

Christ. Sam probably shouldn't find that flush, the way Ryan turns away, so incredibly hot but he does. It makes his cock jerk, show its first sign of interest this morning, and he gets into bed with his coffee, watching Ryan dress.

Combing a hand through his damp hair, Ryan goes to kneel on the end of the bed. "Hey," he says softly, searching Sam's eyes. Hoping things really will be okay.

"Hey," Sam says, smiling warmly back. "Did you get some sleep?"

"Yeah, some." Ryan shrugs. "I mean, not a lot. I was thinking too much, you know?" Punishing himself more than Sam ever could. "I was thinking... Do you think, maybe, when we're doing an intense scene, I could get a cock ring? Because I... I need the help." It's not like Sam doesn't know that already. It's just that Ryan is so embarrassed to admit it.

Sam nods. "I'm sure we can manage that." He would have given Ryan permission from the beginning last night but he'd wanted the intense arousal to buffer the pain. Could have had that easily with a cock ring. He shifts, letting the blanket fall from his thighs, and wraps his hand around his half-hard cock, stroking it slowly.

Oh, god. Ryan drops his gaze to Sam's cock, biting his lip as he watches his lover stroke himself. It fucking sucks. He shifts on the bed, uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Do you have any idea how much I'd rather be inside you?" Sam says softly, hand moving over his cock as it fills.

A stricken expression crosses Ryan's face. He feels like the fucking worst boy in the world. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I promise I'll try harder."

Sam hates - absolutely fucking _hates_ \- the look on Ryan's face. Hates being the one to put it there. "I know you will," he says softly, unable to bite back a groan as his cock jerks against his palm. Spurred on by his own touch, nothing else. "And next time you'll have a cock ring to help you."

"Yes, Sir," Ryan murmurs. He watches Sam's hand, and licks his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

That flash of tongue gets Sam, gets him good, and another groan spills from his lips, one hand roughly stroking his cock while the other grasps his balls, kneading and working them against his palm.

"Fuck." Ryan's prick is starting to swell, arousal pumping through him. He locks his hands together tightly behind his back, the urge to touch his lover nearly overwhelming.

"Like that, do you?" Sam grins, hissing in a breath as his cock jumps in his hand. "How about this?" He lets go of his balls, sucks two fingers into his mouth, slicking them with spit, and bends his knees, keeping his legs spread wide as he reaches between and pushes both into his unprepped hole with a groan that puts the others to shame.

"Ohh, god." Ryan moans as he watches. Lust pulses in his cock and his hole clenches, his mouth going dry. "God, Sir."

"Fuck, feels so good," Sam slurs, eyes half-closed but locked on Ryan, fucking those fingers in and out of his hole, his other hand moving over his cock, matching the rhythm.

 _Shit._ Sam is so evil. Ryan might just fuckin' cry. His erection rears up and his breath catches with need.

"Oh, god, I'm close," Sam whispers, stretching his hole to take a third finger, his eyes completely open now, watching Ryan, watching every fucking reaction from his boy.

"Sir," Ryan begs, even though he knows it's a lost cause, "please." He shifts position, wincing as his prick rubs hard against the seam of his shorts. "Please! Let me kiss you!"

"No, not when I'm doing this," Sam says, shaking his head. Not today. His breath catching as his hips hitch, his cock jerking sharply. "Oh fuck, fuck..." his whole body seizing tight, hole clamping down on his fingers as his cock spurts against his stomach, painting it with strands of thick hot white.

Christ, Sam is gorgeous when he comes. Ryan whimpers, fisting his hands tighter to keep from touching. "Sir," he whispers, shutting his eyes. Thoroughly punished.

Sam shivers through the last aftershock and reaches for a tissue to clean his stomach. "I need to grab a shower and then we'll go down for breakfast," he says, getting up and moving around the foot of the bed. "Okay?" His arm wrapped around Ryan from behind and a kiss pressed to the top of his head.

It's official: for perhaps the first time since adolescence, Ryan is sulking. "Yeah," he mutters, flopping facedown on the bed, then rolling to his back to stare up at the ceiling.

Sam tries not to laugh but he can't help himself. "You'll live," he tells Ryan. "It's only one day." Tugging on a toe before he disappears into the bathroom.

* * *

"Mm. That was good," Sam says, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "I swear - if I ever get a movie where I'm not fighting through most of it or surfing all day, you're gonna have me as big as a house." He's in a good mood, what with the scene last night and the shortened day today. Always aware of Ryan's punishment but glad there's only one more stage to it.

"I like a man who appreciates my cooking," Ryan murmurs, watching Sam with a grin. It's true -- there's nearly a caveman quality in how much Sam enjoys his food. It's fucking hot. He lingers a moment more, watching his lover, then gets up from the table to start on the dirty dishes.

Sam helps clear the table but then stretches out on the couch, feet on the coffee table, as he flicks through the channels, watching bits and pieces of whatever catches his interest.

Ryan takes his time in the kitchen, knowing what's to come this evening. Who's to come, rather, and how. But eventually he can't put it off any longer. He sighs, drying his hands, then heads into the living room. Taking a seat at the end of the couch, pulling Sam's feet into his lap.

Sam smiles at Ryan, his attention easily swayed from the TV. "You want to watch anything?"

"Eh. Whatever." Ryan doesn't really care. It's not like they ever make it through an entire film anyway, and after a while, he gets tired of not knowing how stories end. He'd rather just focus on his lover. Stroking his fingers down the sole of Sam's bare foot, he begins a massage.

"Mm." Sam settles on some comedy show and even though he's already pretty loose, feels his body relax even more with the touch of Ryan's hands. "That feels good."

Ryan smiles slightly. "I love touching you," he whispers, grateful that Sam's not extending his punishment so far as to even exclude this.

"And I love having you touch me," Sam responds. He thinks they're probably skirting the edge of sexual touching here, given how his cock's already slowly responding but he could care less. His boy, his punishment, his way.

The problem with touching Sam is that it just makes Ryan want to touch Sam _more_. He fights back the urge and focuses, watching his fingers slide over his lover's skin.

Sam groans softly, watching Ryan, thinking about how he'd promised to make him clean his boots sometime. Fuck. There's still so much they haven't done and he can't imagine they'll ever reach the end of the list.

That groan, god. Ryan winces, feeling an answering pulse of blood in his cock. With a sigh, he sits back. He bites his bottom lip, his hands stilling.

Shit. "We can either go for a walk or we can get this over with now," Sam says bluntly, checking his watch. "I'll let you choose." But god knows if they stay here, like this, they're both going to be uncomfortable.

Ryan nods, considering. "When it's over," he says softly, "it'll be all over? We'll be back to normal?" He needs to ground himself in Sam's touch, needs it to center himself again.

Sam nods. "Nothing sexual tonight," he says, "but yeah, we can sleep together like we did last night and tomorrow everything'll be back to normal."

"Okay." Ryan nods again, then moves Sam's feet out of his lap. He slips off the couch and kneels, taking a deep breath.

Sam straightens up, planting his feet on the ground and rubs a hand over his cock through his jeans. Starting out slow.

Ryan's gaze is riveted by that hand. He stares as Sam strokes, waiting breathlessly for his lover to swell. Knowing just how it feels to touch Sam that way.

Sam's teeth pull at his bottom lip and he groans softly, working his cock through the denim, blood slowly filling his length.

 _Fuck._ That's so fucking sexy. Ryan licks his own lips and stares at Sam's mouth, arousal beginning to coil tight in his gut.

A dark spot of precome appears over the head and spreads as Sam keeps on stroking, his eyes locked on Ryan, watching his lover's every reaction.

Now Ryan moans softly. It's funny -- he's asked Sam before to wank for him. And the reality is as hot as he knew it would be. But watching with the knowledge that he can't touch, that he's being denied... It causes pain to slice through him. He stares at the bulge beneath Sam's hand, and he can feel his cheeks flame.

His cock grown rigid and starting to ache, Sam unzips his jeans and frees it, thumb rubbing over the head, spreading that liquid over the crown. He curses under his breath, eyes falling half-closed but still trained on Ryan as he works it, hand moving up and down the shaft.

Ryan's mouth waters at the sight, even as the ache in his chest grows. "Please," he begs softly, simply because he needs to. He knows better than to expect Sam to go back on his word. He fists his hands tightly on his thighs. "Please, Sir."

Sam shakes his head. "No." His hand moving faster, his strokes growing rougher. His breath starting to catch in his throat as his hips hitch, meeting each downward movement.

"Fuck." Ryan can feel himself beginning to pout. Again. It's probably some kind of record. His cock throbs with blood and he rocks slightly on his knees, trying to ease the tightness in his shorts.

"You want me to end this?" Sam asks, fingers slick with precome, playing over his cock, his wrist twisted just so.

Ryan meets his lover's eyes and nods. "Please," he begs. God, he just wants this to be over. He needs Sam to touch him again, hold him.

"Tell me how badly," Sam orders, needing something more, anything, to help push him over.

"God. Need you to hold me, Sir," Ryan whispers. He shifts position again, the lines of his erection clear through his shorts. But it's the last thing on his mind; he's fucking miserable like this. "Need you to touch me, please!"

It's the desperation in Ryan's voice that really does it. Has Sam twisting his wrist again, his thumbnail dug into the slit of his cock, a deep ragged groan welling up from his chest as he comes and comes hard, spilling over his fingers.

Ryan shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's never before been so _relieved_ when Sam came. He moves to sit next to his lover on the couch, ignoring the mess. "Please," he whispers, nuzzling Sam's neck. "Please."

Sam wipes his hand on his jeans and wraps it around Ryan, pulling him in close. "Shh. It's okay. It's all over," he whispers back.

Thank heaven. Ryan wraps his arms around Sam and hugs him tight, breathing him in. Slowly he starts to settle, centering himself again.

Sam waits until he feels the tension ease in Ryan's frame before drawing back a little. "I need you to know something," he says softly.

Ryan rubs his cheek against Sam's shoulder. God, he's still pouting. It's like he just can't stop. "Yeah?"

Sam smiles. "Even if you fuck up, I'm still gonna love you."

It's probably the most important thing Sam could say, ever. Ryan smiles a little and presses a kiss to Sam's cheek, mindful that he's still not allowed to start anything sexual. "Even if I make the same mistake more than once?"

"Yeah." Sam nods. "My love isn't contingent on you being a good boy." Hesitating for a second -- weighing his words -- before he adds, "I didn't fall in love with Ryan the good boy. I fell in love with Ryan the all-around amazing bloke who fucking gets me like nobody else does."

Those words... they actually make up for this horrible day. Ryan's smile is still tentative, but it spreads a little wider now. "Thank you," he whispers, nuzzling into Sam's neck.

"It's the truth," Sam says, hugging Ryan even closer. "You mean the world to me."

For a second Ryan's grip on Sam tightens, before he forces himself to relax. "I love you," he whispers, soaking up the warmth and security of Sam's embrace. He's quiet for a moment before asking, "Can I blow you tomorrow morning like always?"  



End file.
